


I Wanna Scream "I Love You" From the Top of my Lungs (But I'm Afraid That Someone Else Will Hear Me)

by pietrosmaximoff



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, M/M, Roommates, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-31 12:20:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6469855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pietrosmaximoff/pseuds/pietrosmaximoff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst part of university is the dorm rooms. Sure, they’re spacious, comfortable and more luxurious than they are practical; but rooms always come with roommates. And, roommates, in Alec’s limited experience, generally come with cats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. cute cats and cuter boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec isn't sure he feels about his new roommate.

The worst part of university is the dorm rooms. Sure, they’re spacious, comfortable and more luxurious than they are practical; but rooms always come with roommates. And, roommates, in Alec’s limited experience, generally come with cats. 

To be fair, Alec didn’t know much about roommates, or about sharing at all. He had spent his freshman year of college in an apartment just off campus, near the coffee shop that he and his friends had quickly claimed as their own.

At the beginning of his sophomore year, however, his parents insisted that he move into the dorms to get “the full university experience”, as they had put it. As alumni of The New York Institute of Higher Education and unnecessarily self-righteous people, they were convinced that they knew best. They also paid Alec’s ridiculously high tuition, so, on the first day of his sophomore year he found himself standing outside dorm room sixty-six, with his hands full of boxes and a ludicrously small cat rubbing itself incessantly against his leg. 

He opened the door and stepped into the large room. There were two beds, one on either side of the room, and a door, half-ajar, that he assumed led to the bathroom. He walked over to the bed nearest to the window and placed the boxes he was carrying on it. The damn cat was still following him around and mewling pathetically.

“Oh, lucky you! He doesn’t usually take to new people this easily. You must be something special.”

Alec turned abruptly to see the person that he would be living with for the next three years. Standing before him, he saw a young man, with dark hair and excessive eye makeup. He was a good head shorter than Alec, but somehow seemed to take up the entire room. He didn’t even bother to hide the appraising look that he gave Alec. Alec stuck out his hand and prayed that he wouldn’t stumble over his words.

“I’m – uh – Alec. Alec Lightwood.” 

The words rushed out of his mouth and his cheeks took on a light, pinkish hue.

“Ah, the famous Alexander Lightwood. I’m Magnus Bane. Charmed.”

He took Alec’s hand and shook it slowly, for longer than was strictly necessary (not that Alec was complaining).

“Have we met before?” 

“Certainly, not. I’d remember a face like yours,” Magnus said with a smirk before waving his hand nonchalantly. 

“Alexander Lightwood, heir to the famed Lightwood fortune and the most eligible bachelor on the block. You, my dear, are too much for the girls on this campus to manage.”

Alec gaped at Magnus; he searched his mind for some sort of response, but fell short.

“And, more than half of the guys too, mind you.” 

Magnus dropped a wink and turned around with a flourish before Alec had a chance to answer.

“Hope you don’t mind the cat, by the way. He's kind of a permanent thing.”

He was out of the door before you could say ’gay as bedazzled skinny jeans’ and Alec was left alone, with an unexpectedly affectionate cat, to pick his mouth up off of the floor.

“Huh. Magnus Bane,” he muttered, half to himself, half to the cat at his side. 

The words sounded strangely musical leaving his mouth. His name sounded like the first bar of a symphony, beautiful, but glaringly incomplete on its own.


	2. the coffee house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jace gets some coffee, Izzy is adorable and Alec has some exciting news ft. Clumsy Simon and a cute coffee shop.

This was not how Jace had expected his day to go. He had woken up late that morning, and after a few moments of wild panic he realised that it was one of the few days that he had no morning classes. He took his time getting ready, it was the only chance he’d have to himself before he had to endure the idiocy of his ridiculous Environmental Studies professor and pompous students who thought that they knew better because their parents earned more money than Jace had ever seen. 

(Of course, attending The Institute, albeit as a scholarship student, had benefits that far outweighed the harsh thoughts that his classmates could never be bothered to keep to themselves; but for the moment Jace was willing to ignore those benefits, in favour of complaining about trivialities that he knew would never matter in the long run.)

He made it to class with time to spare, and managed to get through class without committing a mass murder. So, all in all, it was looking like a pretty good day. After class he went to his regular coffee shop, for his regular coffee, and it was all downhill from there. 

The reason that Jace dragged all of his friends into that quaint little coffee shop in a small, hidden-away corner of the city was, honestly, rather ridiculous. He did it all for a girl. Make no mistake, Jace was a man of simple pleasures. He did not do relationships and he certainly did not develop feelings for complete strangers. But, this girl, she wasn’t a stranger. He didn’t know her name, or her age, or anything beyond the fact that she worked at The Coffee House, but for some reason he felt as though he knew her. There was something familiar in her eyes, in her smile, in her bright red hair. Jace had never had any trouble talking to girls before this, but something about her made his words get caught in his mouth before he could say anything.

If you asked him why he continued to pine after his pointless Coffee Shop Crush, he wouldn’t be able to give you an answer. He had been to The Coffee House nearly every week for almost a year, and every time he went, she would be there. Every time, she would greet him with the same bright smile and start brewing his double espresso with milk and two sugars the second he walked in. Every time their hands would brush as she handed him his drink and every time he would feel goose bumps from the electricity that pricked his skin at this simple touch. It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous, and his friends would never fail to tell him to stop being an idiot and get her damn number. He never did it.

For the first time, he pushed open the door of the coffee shop and didn’t see her standing behind the counter. It was a slow day, so there was only one barista in her place. He was a bumbling idiot with brown hair and glasses and he looked strangely familiar. 

“Good afternoon and welcome to The Coffee House! What can I get for you?” 

Jace winced at the too-chirpy voice and sullenly ordered his double espresso with milk and two sugars. The fool at the counter was too busy making eyes at some of the girls at a nearby table to get Jace’s order down correctly the first time, so after he repeated it for the second time, he yanked his drink out of the chump’s hand and went to sit down at his usual table. 

A few minutes later, the door flew open and Jace looked up at the sound of familiar voices bickering.

“All I’m saying is that if I had a way into one of Magnus Bane’s famous parties, I wouldn't be complaining! He’s basically a campus legend, Alec!”

Isabelle Lightwood, the younger, but just as beautiful, sister of Jace’s best friend stormed into the shop like the hurricane that she was. The aforementioned older brother followed a few steps behind her, moving with much less commotion than his sibling.

“Izzy, there is no way that you’re going to that party. Those sorts of things never end well.”

Izzy just grinned at Alec’s words and ordered drinks for both of them, flashing the starry-eyed barista a grin before making her way to Jace’s table.

“Jace, would you please tell my brother that he is not my keeper,” she gave him the same smile that had made more guys than any of them could count weak in the knees.

Jace knew better than to get involved in one of the Lightwood siblings’ infamous arguments, so he just shook his head at her and turned to look at Alec, who had sat down sulkily next to him.

“How would you get into one of Magnus’ parties, anyway? Aren’t they super-elite, invitation-only events?”

Alec fiddled with the plastic lid of his to-go coffee cup and muttered something incomprehensible.

Izzy gave a stunningly accurate impression of their overbearing mother and said: “Speak up, Alec! No one can hear you when you mumble like that!”

Alec glared at her and repeated his words, in a louder voice.

“Magnus is my roommate. He gave me a couple of invites to his party on Saturday. Said I could bring friends.”

Alec avoided Jace’s eyes as his friend burst into spontaneous laughter. 

“You, Alec Lightwood, the most rule-obsessed and least-flamboyant person on campus, got stuck with Magnus Bane? Oh, this is too great for words!”

Even though he was the subject of Jace’s laughter, seeing the massive grin on his best friend’s face still brought a ghost of a smile to Alec’s face. 

“I see that your coffee shop girl isn’t here today, Jace.” 

Izzy smirked at the blond boy sitting opposite her. Alec quickly looked away as Jace’s face turned stormy.

“Don’t remind me, Isabelle.”

“Aw, poor baby. I’m sure that a party is exactly what you need to cheer yourself up!”

She laced her words with sugar and gave Alec a meaningful look as he stood up, and got his wallet out of his pocket.

“I have to get to class, I’ll cover the drinks.”

He walked to the counter and handed a fifty dollar bill to the brown-haired boy, ignoring the fact that he’d been staring at Izzy since the moment that she walked in. 

After paying, he turned and made his way back to the table and handed two ornate envelopes to Izzy and Jace. They looked up at him, curiously.

“Invites for the party. I think this year’s theme is masquerade.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so this is the second chapter, it has less malec than i anticipated, but i pinky promise that there will be some intense gayness in the next couple of chapters. i'll try to update as often as possible, but school is not doing me any favours. once again, thank you to [ for helping me edit! much love. kirsten.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XoCait/pseuds/XoCait)


	3. izzy's adventures in the upper east side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izzy goes on a shopping expedition and meets a strange woman.

For the first time in her almost twenty years on earth, Isabelle Lightwood didn’t know what to wear. She prided herself in her ability to look good no matter what it was that she was doing. Whether she was running a marathon for charity with Jace or running into a class late, she looked like the queen that she knew she was. Unfortunately for her, this innate talent to slay left her at a distinct disadvantage when she found herself in the rare predicament that she was now in.

Izzy had nothing to wear and a day without classes, a deadly combination that could lead to only one thing: a shopping trip. Isabelle was proud to be the only person in her (somewhat limited) group of friends who possessed a single fashionable bone. Alec was definitely a “wear whatever I have that’s clean and black” kind of person, while Jace spent so much time on his hair that he couldn’t be bothered about his outfit. Because of this, Izzy often found herself shopping alone. This expedition was no exception.

She had decided to go to a small, chic boutique in one of the city’s lesser known shopping districts to avoid bumping into any of her mother’s well-meaning, but misguided friends – all of whom seemed to have way too much time on their hands. Anything said at one of these “accidental” meetings would be immediately relayed to Maryse Lightwood, herself, who would waste no time chastising Izzy for something or the other that she had done wrong that day. The woman had eyes everywhere.

After some time spent browsing the rails, Isabelle had found the perfect ensemble. A navy blue, floor-length gown and killer heels that made her legs look even better than they usually did made for a formal outfit to die for. She made her way to the counter, paid, and walked to the door.

As reached the door, a woman dressed in clothes that looked far too regal, even for New York’s Upper East Side, bumped into her, forcing her out of the way without so much as an “excuse me.”

The woman, whose nails looked as though they had been sharpened into points, stalked to the first shop assistant, a young-looking girl, and demanded to know whether they had received the latest shipment of the fall line Louboutin heels. When the clerk stumbled over her words in an answer, the woman’s voice grew louder.

“I asked you a question! Now, if you can’t give me an answer, I suggest you quit this job and ensure that the person employed in your place is someone who can!”

The poor girl looked close to tears and Isabelle, never one to let these small, daily injustices slide, stepped towards the girl to help her.

“The fall line Louboutin heels won’t be available until the end of their unveiling showcase. I’m sure that you’ll know as soon as they’re in.”

The woman turned to Isabelle with a sickly sweet smile that dropped off of her face the second she saw that Izzy met her eyes fearlessly.

“And, who might you be?” she spat out, looking at Izzy disdainfully.

“Someone who knows that there is no reason to speak to sales assistants as though they are lesser beings.”

Isabelle stepped forward and folded her arms across her chest. The woman, with a saccharine grin on her face released the grip that she had on the poor, young girl’s upper arm.

“This is just a little misunderstanding, my dear. No need to worry.” She said to the shop assistant in a syrupy tone.

The girl scuttled off and the woman turned once more to Isabelle.

“My name is Camille Belcourt, I’m sure you must have heard of me.” 

“Isabelle Lightwood, and, no, I’m afraid that I haven’t.”

The woman’s eyes lit up at Izzy’s name.

“Lightwood? You wouldn’t have any relation to a certain Alexander Lightwood, now would you?”

“How do you know my brother?” 

Izzy responded without thought, taken aback at the question. Camille let out a low chuckle.

“So, I assume that it’s you that he will be bringing to Magnus’ masquerade tonight?”

“Again, none of your business. I have to be somewhere.”

She turned to leave, already tired of whatever game this strange woman was playing at.

“So, I’ll see you tonight, then? At Magnus’ little soiree?” 

Izzy paused in her exit, for a brief moment and then, refusing to give the woman the satisfaction of her response, stormed out of the store. As she walked back to The Institute, the strange encounter played itself over and over again her mind.


	4. a (not so) intimate gathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jace encounters an unknown girl and Magnus sees a boy that he has definitely met before.

Magnus hadn’t felt nervous in years. He was a showman. His mother said that he was born to be the centre of attention. But that night he couldn’t stop fiddling with his watch, or straightening his tie, or adjusting the way that his mask fit on his face.

If you had asked him about this sudden burst of anxious behaviour, he would simply laugh. He’d say that he was throwing a massive party, who wouldn’t be nervous for God’s sake? But, if you knew him well, you’d know that he was lying. 

He was a man of many secrets, the most confident people often are. His poised gait and self-assured manner of speaking disarmed you. It made you ignore the fact that he never quite seemed to tell the whole truth. The riddles that he speaks in seem comical, a side-effect of the evasively charming atmosphere that he seems to carry around with him. 

He wondered idly if Alexander would even be at his party. Beyond their first meeting, in which Magnus seemed to breeze in and out of the room like a rampant wind or a raging cyclone, he’d barely interacted with his new roommate. Alec was always gone early in the morning, before Magnus was awake and by the time Magnus returned to their room at night, Alec was fast asleep. If Magnus didn’t know any better, he’d say the Lightwood boy was avoiding him.

Magnus checked the expensive watch on his wrist, and saw that it was almost time for people to start arriving at his lavish childhood home just outside the New York city limits. The invites indicated that his event would begin at eight, meaning that no one would arrive before eight-thirty. Being fashionably late was very much in at the moment.

He drifted downstairs as he heard the first voices from his foyer. He intended to greet the guests, ever the amiable host. As he descended the opulent spiral staircase, he adjusted his stark, white mask (chosen to contrast beautifully with his all-black tuxedo) one last time. Just before he came into the view of the people waiting downstairs he put on a mask of a different kind all together. This was the mask that Magnus had learnt down to a tee, after a childhood spent pretending to be the perfect son at his mother’s dinner parties and at his father’s business conventions. It was his mask of charisma and a nonchalant confidence. It was the mask that drew people to him, and left them disappointed when they grew nearer to him, only, to find out that his air of composure was false.

He was relieved to see a familiar flash of bright red hair and a tallish figure with mousey-brown hair. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew Clary and Simon – the two were always a pair, never one without the other. His mother knew Clary’s somehow, he hadn’t ever questioned her presence in his life. He’d known them for as long as he could remember, but sometimes they seemed to come from a different world. A world of loans, and debt, and worrying about the rent. Magnus didn’t ever take his family’s money for granted, but it was certainly easy to forget that not everyone had a life as extravagant as his.

“Clary Fray, in the flesh! My, it has been ages since you’ve been down to the house to visit!”

“Well, there’s no point in coming if you aren’t here, Magnus. Thanks for the invites, by the way. Haven’t had a chance to schmooze with the rich kids in a while.”

She winked and him and they grinned at each other for a moment. Magnus stepped forward and wrapped Clary in a warm embrace before moving on to Simon and doing the same.

“The party’s in the old ballroom. You still know your way around?”

“Masks, a fancy suit, waiters with fucking champagne flutes? I’d hardly this “little get-together” a party, man.” Simon said to Magnus as Clary grabbed his hand and dragged him to the ballroom.

She pushed open the large wooden doors and let out a gasp. The normally empty room was filled with big round tables and magnificent golden decorations, complete with a dance floor for waltzes and foxtrots. It was obvious that Magnus had spared no expense on his annual beginning-of-semester party (not that Clary had expected him to).

She and Simon were the first to arrive, so they danced over-the-top classical dances that they had learnt together for their high school prom. As the room began to fill up, they drifted around, talking to people, mingling. There was a certain thrill that came with the luxury of being someone other than yourself for a night. 

They always found their way back to Magnus, who always found a way to introduce them to groups of people that they hadn’t met before and, after a while, they began to feel more comfortable in the anonymity of the whole thing.

Clary was left, standing off to the side, with two glasses full of expensive champagne, as Simon tried to chat up a pretty dark-haired girl in a navy blue dress that he swore he knew from somewhere. She was getting ready to go to one of the emptier tables and find a seat from which to watch Simon’s failed attempts at flirting, when she heard a voice from behind her.

“Are you planning on drinking both of those, or could I steal one off of you?”

She turned to see a tall, blond man dressed in a well-worn, well-fitting suit and a blue-black mask. He shifted on his feet and looked just as out of place as she felt, surrounded by people who had seen more money in the past week than she would ever see in her life.

“I’m holding this for a friend, who actually seems to have ditched me.”

She looked for Simon only to him talking to a different person, this time a man in an expensive-looking suit. The pair seemed to be hitting it off. After a moment of thought she handed it to the man.

“Simon can get that cute brunette to get him another one.”

He grinned and took the glass from her. 

“Am I allowed to ask for your name, or is that against the rules of a masquerade ball?”

She took a sip of her drink and thought for a second.

“You know, if masquerade balls have got any rules, I am not the person you should be asking about them. I’m not exactly a professional at this whole thing.”

She gestured to the party and to the people with the hand that wasn’t holding a flute.

“That makes two of us. Since we both seem rather clueless about this sort of thing, shall I just err on the side of caution and call you ‘Cinderella’ for the night?”

Clary couldn’t help but let out a low laugh at his obvious attempt to flirt with her.

“Would that make you my Prince Charming?”

“I can be whatever you want me to be, babe.”

He cringed as the words left his mouth and took a sip of his champagne.

“I promise that that sentence sounded a lot less douche-baggy in my head.”

Clary gave him one of the first real smiles that she’d smiled all evening.

“I guess that I’ll have to take your word for it.”

//////

“They seem to be hitting it off.”

Alec started at the sudden voice interrupting his observation of Jace flirting with some little redheaded girl. 

Magnus face broke out into a grin at the grumpy expression on Alec’s face.

“What, you aren’t happy that your friend might be getting some this evening?”

Alec took a deep breath and looked at the man standing next to him. 

“Of course I’m happy for Jace. He’s my best friend. Why wouldn’t I be happy for him?”

Alec’s gruff voice sounded rehearsed to Magnus’ keen ears.

“Oh, I can think of a couple of reasons.”

For the first time that evening, Magnus took in the man standing next to him. He was dressed in a regular tuxedo, with a white dress shirt, a well-fitting black suit jacket and a black bowtie. He wore a matching plain, black mask on his face that was a sheer contrast to Magnus’ plain, white one.

Alec just hummed in response to Magnus’ words and they stood there for a moment in silence. They simultaneously opened their mouths to fill the quiet andboth let out a low chuckle. Alec motioned at Magnus to continue.

Magnus grinned at him.

“You know, Alexander, I think that this is the first proper conversation that we’ve had since the first time we met.”

Alec laughed lowly 

“Sorry about that. Our schedules don’t really seem to line up.”

Alec rumbled out in his low baritone voice, giving Magnus a shy smile.

Magnus opened his mouth to reply, when he was interrupted by a voice from behind them.

“Magnus Bane, it’s been too long.”

The words were spoken in a sugar-sweet by a woman in a striking red dress, with unmissable red lipstick and a crimson mask that barely covered her face. Alec looked over at the man standing next to him. A grimace (that didn’t go unnoticed by Alec) flitted over Magnus' face, quickly covered by a practiced look of indifference.

“Hello, Camille.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a double update, and on a weekday, too!! consistently using this as a way to procrastinate seems like a pretty good strategy to get through school and i'll probably stick with it. sorry, for the minor cliffhanger, and the (kind of) lack of saphael. tomorrow is a friday and i have no life, so i will probably update again, but i make no promises. thanks for reading!! much love. kirsten.


	5. magnus' masquerade ball pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael sees a cute boy, and things do not go as planned.

Raphael was not amused. It was bad enough that Camille had dragged him to her ex-boyfriend’s masquerade party, but the fact that she ditched him the second that they had arrived and that his phone’s battery was completely dead just added fuel to a fire of anger and discomfort. 

He knew that if he left before Camille did, the entire campus would know within in hours, and that their families would know shortly after that. They managed to play a pretty convincing couple when they needed to, but this was definitely one of those occasions where the relationship that their parents had arranged for them was more of a burden than it was worth.

He was standing off to the side, against one of the walls. It might have just been him, but these parties always seemed to be more fun as an observer than as a participant. He watched people pretend to laugh and pretend to smile and pretend to like one another. He watched boys flirt hopelessly and he watched girls turn them down. He watched couples who were so in love that it took everything in him to not physically throw up.

He saw Camille stalk Magnus Bane across the room, a predator moving in for the kill. Bane was standing with the Lightwood boy. It had already spread through the campus that the two of them were roommates, but, even to a man with less keen eyes, it was obvious that there was (or that there soon would be) something between the two of them.

Then, something else caught his eye. A boy with brown-hair, in a suit that was too small and an emerald-green mask over the top half of his face. The boy was a sterling example of hopeless flirting. He had obviously had one too many flutes of Bane’s expensive champagne, but his endearing awkwardness seemed too practiced to be a side-effect of the drinks.

The familiar, dark-haired girl (he was almost certain that she was the other Lightwood) that seemed to be the target of his fancy seemed more amused by the boy than anything else. She threw her head back in laughter, and a goofy smile stretched itself across the boy’s face. She said something to him, gave him a little wave and turned to leave.

Before he knew what he was doing, Raphael was making his way across the room to the boy. He was staring after the girl as she waked away, looking for all the world like a love-struck puppy. The room wasn’t that large, but it felt like Raphael had hiked across the desert before he found himself standing in front of the boy.

“No offense, but you do not seem like Isabelle Lightwood’s type.”

When the boy looked more confused than charmed (Raphael had definitely been going for the latter), he explained himself further. 

“The girl you were flirting with, Isabelle. You don’t really seem like you’d be her type.”

If the boy was, at first, a love-struck puppy, he turned, almost effortlessly, into an indignant kitten that was convinced that its adorable mew was a lion’s roar. He seemed to stutter in outrage before he finally got a sentence out.

“What is that supposed to mean? You don’t even know who I am!”

The boy was sputtering in his indignation. Raphael was certain that more than ninety percent of the barb in the boy’s tone came from the alcohol in his system. He flashed him one of his award-winning smiles, the kind that had made more men than he could count weak in the knees, but the boy seemed unaffected. As if his flirting wasn’t already obvious enough, he figured that he’d have to spell it out for the brunette standing in front of him.

“You’re right, I don’t know who you are, but maybe we could get to know each other a little better. My name’s Raphael, what might yours be?”

The boy’s face went from screwed up in indignation to screwed up in what looked like disgust. The boy swayed on his feet for a moment, leaned forward, and proceeded to throw up all over Raphael’s Armani loafers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just a quick littlechapter because i was itching to write saphael. i've got a lot of work in the upcoming week, so i can't tell you when i'll update, but i promise that it will be soon. thanks for reading!! kirsten.

**Author's Note:**

> yo. this my first malec fic and the first fic that I've written on ao3, so please be gentle. Disclaimer: I have not read the mortal instruments books, and this fic is based entirely on the universe of the shadowhunters tv show. manythanks to my favourite loser [cait](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XoCait/pseuds/XoCait) for helping me with the concept/writing of this. more chapters to come, so stay tuned! check out my shitty [tumblr blog](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/blues--sargent) if you want <3


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